


one more night

by mllevangogh



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:07:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mllevangogh/pseuds/mllevangogh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the ways they have been separated, from childhood onward, and all the ways they still love each other despite the distances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	one more night

**Author's Note:**

> Only slight dubcon at the end, when describing Cersei's wedding night with Robert. All relationships between Cersei and Jaime are thoroughly consensual. Follows their relationship while children, so there is some underage sexual content. Part of lainelannister's "Beautiful Golden Fools" challenge on Tumblr.

they’re eight and in love. that’s how it begins with them, and that’s where it ends, too. they are each other’s limbs, each other's arms and minds and hearts. their mother has just made them separate for the first time, has just started telling cersei to stay inside, to do her sewing, while jaime runs free.cersei has her first taste of watching through latticed windows as she watches her brother run off, his gold hair glinting in the sunlight on a white horse. he is her prince, and she is in her tower. that’s how she imagines it at eight, anyway.  

at first she is angry, but while she is still eight, jaime can quell it with his kisses on her forehead.

“sister,” he tells her, fervently, always fervently, “they will never separate us. i will keep you safe.”

she has never told anyone what maggy the frog had said this past summer, but somehow jaime knows she is afraid, knows that the anger comes from fear. sometimes she gets angry and fitful and can’t say why, and jaime is there to kiss her temple and hold her to his chest, to make it go away. and it does, for a little while.

+++

they’re nine and in love when cersei’s chambermaid catches them kissing in her bed, tangling around each other, jaime grasping at the buds of her breasts that are growing in already. the maid screams and tears jaime off her and cersei is screaming back, angrier than she ever has been.

“you won’t take him from me!” she screams, while jaime looks gallant beside her. he is flustered and golden but not ashamed, not ruffled. he will not let them taint this. but for cersei it always is tainted after that, just a little, to remind her that this is a secret she must bear alone, along with all the others tight in her chest. “he is _mine_ ,” she insists, furiously, but in the end, it doesn’t matter. her mother and father have fervent, quiet talks, and jaime’s things are moved to the other end of the castle, the one further from the sea, looking inland. he can see his kingdom better that way, and cersei can watch the waves lap at the craggy rocks, wishing to go out with the tide.

it is the first time they are separated.

it will not be the last.

a few months later, tyrion tears joanna from the inside out, and cersei’s golden mother is lain in a golden tomb, and cersei screams with terror for days.

+++

they’re twelve and in love. jaime still comes to cersei’s rooms, more discreetly, but they’ve lost all the innocence, all the wild abandon. it’s dirty, somehow, less sweet than it used to be. cersei secretly blames maggy and her prophecies, the ones that have haunted her every step. her secrets grow in her heart by the day. she hates the stunted fool that is her younger brother and fears him in equal measure. soon she hates her father, when he tears her from jaime once more, this time all the way to the capital. 

her cage is more golden and more splendid in king’s landing, but it is a cage all the same. her father is unrelentingly strict. he allows her little freedom, and he refuses her any spouse that might. he refuses her any spouse at all, and he refuses her jaime. he grants her sewing, and she sits like a docile doll with fire on her insides every day, writing letters to jaime in her head.

+++

they are fifteen and in love, and cersei nearly cries when she sees him, so tall and so strong, soon to be a knight, her knight. he is more beautiful than she remembers, and he is her mirror, his green eyes meeting hers the moment he enters the red keep and sees her. he breaks away from his party, much to their father’s chagrin, and kisses her, just shortly, only a peck, even, but she feels the desperation in his lips. 

“i’ve missed you, sister,” he whispers in her hair, and cersei’s heart aches.

“you’re home,” she murmurs. “oh, jaime, you’ve come home to me.”

he comes to her rooms automatically that night, as if she had invited him. she knows she has become more beautiful by the day. she hears the men talk, she knows how they watch her, how they respond to her low cut dresses, the way her lion pendant falls between her breasts. they whisper about fucking her when they think she can’t hear, but she can hear. she hears everything.

but this is jaime, and he is different. he is _her._ she kisses him strongly, harshly, and he kisses her back, more gently. 

“jaime,” she tells him, breath quick and heart hasty, “i need you. gods, i need you, jaime.”

“yes,” he says, “yes.”

he is still cautious, still fumbling a little, so when she pulls off his breeches, she pretends she knows what she is doing. it’s awkward, this first time, but once he is inside her, she feels home at last. he is the only center she will ever need. he kisses her neck and whispers her name, but it may as well be his. they are one and the same, two sides of the same coin, reflections. he is hers and she is his, and now they are finally joined the way the should be. 

they lie in bed after, skin flush and pink. 

“you have to stay,” she tells him, kissing his shoulder. 

“i can’t,” he tells her. “father would never allow it.”

“not if you don’t ask for permission,” she says, and the ideas that have been coagulating in her mind are coming to a front. “not if you force his hand.”

“cersei,” he groans, but she persists, will not give up.

“jaime, you are mine,” she says, hungrily, thirstily. “you are mine. you aren’t lysa tully’s. you are _mine._ please, jaime, stay, stay.”

he sighs and rolls over, kissing her gently. “how can i stay,” he whispers, hands on either side of her head, and she knows the battle is won.

+++

they’re seventeen and in love when she is married to robert baratheon. her feelings, already tangled, are even more jumbled with the addition of this tall, blackhaired stranger. he is loud and funny and handsome, and he brings laughter with him wherever he goes. he is _strong,_ a man of muscle and teeth he bares even while laughing. he wields a war hammer, and it is a symbol she will always associate with him. 

when they walk up to the sept, the crowds are all murmuring her name, _her name,_ cersei, cersei, cersei lannister, queen of the seven kingdoms. they all murmur how beautiful she is, what a splendid sight she is to see, next to her blackbearded husband, and what strong sons they will make. _cersei,_ they whisper to her, _cersei, the queen._

the whole day passes in delirium. robert’s beard is scratchy when he kisses her, but it is not unpleasant, and she feels light. 

but that night, when he pulls himself onto her, crushing her with the same muscles she thought might lift her and whispers in her ear, _lyanna,_ she is brought, shatteringly, down to the earth. she feels like a smudge that night, like the ashes of a fire gently burning. used. 

after robert is asleep, snoring sweetly from the kiss of wine, she pulls herself up and finds jaime.

 _jaime,_ she whispers in the dark to him. she watches his beautiful head stir in his slumber, as he is pulled into the present by her voice. _jaime, please, be mine._

and he is. 

he always is.

+++

 


End file.
